


Dancing With Scars

by Bandicoot



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Assassin's Creed: Syndicate, Biting, Kissing, M/M, Not quite smut but y'know, RothFrye, Sequence 8 Spoilers, Shoving, Slash, Spoilers, Syndicate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-04 10:34:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5330966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bandicoot/pseuds/Bandicoot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A different take on the mission "Fun and Games", and what could have been.</p><p>Edit - Rating went up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! So if you didn't know already, I'm bandicoot88 on Tumblr, and I like to talk about RothFrye and then cry about it. This idea came from an analysis I made on that Corvus the Trickster was already planned before they even met, and it happened on the same day as the "Fun and Games" mission, but what if that mission had gone well if the absent of children happened (and generally if Roth was just that little bit nicer)?
> 
> P.S This chapter is very short, but it's just to get the ball rolling.
> 
> Also P.S Spot the Shakespeare quote (cos theatre).

The last explosive had been set, before Jacob turned his back on the soon to be destroyed workshop that belonged to Starrick. What better way to take back control than to light the fuses of dynamite until there is nothing but burnt wood and lost opportunity. Jacob wanted results, and they were happening with every ambush and destruction on Templar grounds. He liked Roth's methods, his company too, the man was not one for bullshit after all, and that suited Jacob. Rules did not have to be complicated, they just needed to work. Why spend the time chasing ghosts?

A shot with the Rope Launcher made for an easy ascend for Jacob to join Roth from behind.

“All rigged up,” Jacob stated, his grin with anticipation as another blow to Starrick would soon follow. Roth almost did not notice Jacob's presence, his focus seemingly drawn to the workshop. A slight glance towards Jacob to show otherwise.

“Perfect! Let's put our plan into action,” he instructed, a smile of approval as he did so, very much looking forward to the display too. He took a step towards the edge of the roof, addressing some of his Blighters. “Stand back. Ready... and light 'em up boys!”

A few thugs ran in to put fire to the lethal casing, whilst Jacob and Roth watched. The last thug lit his share of the work before making a run for it, making sure not to get caught up in the explosion. It happened too fast, but it was glorious, as the building was suddenly set ablaze after following the split second blast that emitted sparks towards the sky. A job well down.

“And another plan thwarted for Mr. Starrick. Poor bloke won't be best pleased,” Jacob taunted towards Roth, this toothy grin never leaving his childish features. Roth took pleasure in seeing Jacob enjoy this victory, noticing that he gave off that beautiful glow that entwined perfectly with his manliness. He was like a fine wine and sandpaper rolled into one.

“My dear, I do love it when you smile,” Roth chose not to say, though the words so desperately wanted to escape him. Not quite yet, he decided.

“Excellent! We must celebrate this triumphant my dear!” he beamed. “Do join me tonight at the Alhambra. I'm putting on a show that you won't want to miss!”

Curiosity grabbed at Jacob, and the chance to have a good time. He earned it, so why not?

“Alright. I look forward to it,” he replied.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter. I actually have more written out, but I split it as to not make one huge chapter. Nothing too interesting happens in this chapter, but it's getting there. :)
> 
> P.S I hate it when websites are like "you spelt this wrong", so I legit think "okay", but no, it's the British way of spelling it! Don't lie to me! It's "theatre" and "likeable!"

For the first time in his life, Jacob was contemplating on what to wear. It was a dreadful experience. Suit and tie, or assassin garments? It is a theatre after all, which required a formal dress code, though his Outdoorsman outfit was still a fetching choice. It also proved to be the more realistic choice. Spending an evening in a theatre that belonged to the leader of the Blighters was not completely reassuring, as it was still unclear on whether the man could be trusted. Jacob liked to think so. He hoped for it even.

The realization at thinking of such a thought baffled Jacob. Why was he so compelled to please and spend time with this near-stranger? The man was likeable, and Jacob liked his chaotic nature, it made things more interesting and not so straightforward that it would become a bore. But something else was going on, and Jacob could not find a word for it.

He had changed out of his current outfit, dirty with mud stains and blood. Thankfully he had a fresh piece of clothing to attend this evening's event. The mirror told him he was looking very dapper. A nervous breath escaped him. How bothersome.

“C'mon Jacob, get it together.”

He gave the mirror a big smile. What a handsome man standing before him. A confident, scarred, rugged man. Yes, he was Jacob Frye. He left the room to be by itself in his absence. Time to join the party.

Ten past seven, the outside of the theatre clustered with people, their faces partially hidden by masquerade masks. Roth had informed him before they departed that Jacob should seek out a woman to acquire his own. Perhaps the usher. He strolled over to her position.

“Excuse me madam, Mr. Roth told me to speak with someone in order to acquire a mask of my own. I assume you know of this,” he inquired.

“And you are?” she addressed him. It was true that she was expecting a Jacob Frye to be attending this evening, though she had to make sure the man standing before her was him.

“Jacob Frye, madam,” he replied, presenting a loving smile. Perhaps charm would grant him access inside if all else failed. She seemed to like that.

“Oh yes, Mr. Frye, I was indeed expecting you. And you sure are the man Mr. Roth described. Such a handsome face...”

Jacob tried to smile, but the statement caught him off guard. What did Roth say exactly?

“Uh, good,” he muttered unprofessionally. What else could he say to that?

The usher grabbed the reserved mask for Jacob, handing it over with delicate hands.

“Here you go, Mr. Frye. Do enjoy your evening,” she ended, leaving Jacob with his feelings of uncertainty, his face slightly flushed. He placed the mask on his face immediately to hide any signs of feeling awkward, before giving her his thanks. He joined the queue alongside other guests, and proceeded to enter the theatre.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The evening begins now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last few paragraphs took far too long to finish. I just settle on something that worked or what I was happy with. Got to this, pretty happy, but feel it could be better.

Jacob never got a good look inside before, but the theatre was very impressive. Rich colours of red painted the walls, the balconies crafted with such intricacy, the ceiling rim splashed in gold. Roth had taste, news that was not knew. It seemed that for now, Jacob was left to do as he pleased, and he thought a good starting point would be to grab a drink. He quickly found a bar, ordering a Double Stout. Upon his purchase being delivered, Jacob took a seat on a temptingly comfortable chair, and took a swig of his beer. Rich, just as he liked it.

His attention was awakened upon hearing Roth's voice fill the theatre. The evening had officially begun.

“Mesdames et Messieurs, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Alhambra Music Hall! Tonight we have a very special performance of Corvus the Trickster. Do not be alarmed at what you are about to witness. Fear not! This entertainment is of the highest quality. Tonight's performance immortalizes and is dedicated to a young fellow very near and dear to my heart.”

“What?” Jacob's mind raced. What did this mean?

“Jacob, dear boy, tonight is for you!”

Surely not. Could it be? Was he thinking right? Jacob wanted to understand. He did not want to assume anything, and yet, was there even another explanation for this?

“Best not to ask questions,” he told himself, that flush returning slightly. Ever so thankful for the mask he was. Picking himself up from his seat, beer in hand, he went to overlook the balcony. The show had been dedicated to him, so he should not miss the performance. Besides, if it was anything as Roth described, then it should at least prove entertaining. A woman on stage holding several knives, and a man strapped opposite. Death defying stunts. Jacob was sceptical however, as the hint of danger filled the air like a deadly fume. The strangers around him did not know Roth like Jacob. But was that a bad thing? He could not say. He watched with curious eyes, allowing the show to play itself. Hopefully no one would receive a dagger to the head.

Knife throwing, rounds of bullets, sword swinging, there was much variety. It appeared that Roth's associates were as professional as Roth claimed. It really showed that Roth was one with the theatre. Gasps and even the odd scream could be heard throughout the theatre, as they watched the performances happen, fearing for the lives of the people involved. Jacob was a composed man, for the most part. He had to be, he was an Assassin after all.

He watched on, searching the stage to see if Roth was anywhere in sight. The performance was nice, but so would some company. Perhaps Roth had read his mind, as his voice once more filled the space.

“Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please. For our next act, we require volunteers. Do not fear, you will not be participating in any life threatening stunts, oh no, as you will be participating in the art of dancing!”

This caught Jacob's attention. He spotted several people getting picked at random by the theatre's workers. Then a woman approached him next.

“Care to test your feet on the floor, good sir?”

Had Roth planned this, or was Jacob really picked at random? In any case, he agreed. May as well make the most of this night. He let the woman guide him to the stage, placing him in front of another woman for his dance partner. She wore a mask too, partially concealed like himself. Some volunteers wore masks that completely covered their face though.

“If everyone is ready? For the volunteers, do try to follow your partner's moves, as they will be leading, but no not worry if you mess up, as this is all in good fun.”

Roth's voice again. Jacob felt that he was close. The assortment of piano keys played in Jacob's ears. High notes, then low, his feet tried to mimic that of his lady associate. He failed. Though he allowed himself to laugh, because the not knowing made it quite exciting.

“Aaaand... change partners!”

His dance partner led him to another, this time a man, his height reaching no more than Jacob's neck, and a mask that completely covered his face. Jacob assumed it was a man and woman set-up, not that it bothered him. It was only a dance after all. Though the man was fairly short, he obviously knew where his feet were, providing Jacob with a challenge. Jacob felt like a complete moron in front of an entire theatre, but he could not have been the only one, not unless this was some cruel joke. The pace did slow down after a short time, allowing Jacob to make amends for his past mistakes.

“Switch dear people!”

What was the rush? The man was almost yanking at his wrist to throw him into the arms of another gentlemen partner, whose face was also hidden. No time had passed before the lead role was off quicker than Jacob could down a pint. There were no words that could escape Jacob that could describe the man's moves, only that he was a sheer expert at dancing. The stranger hardly even had to lead Jacob, just throwing him in all directions. Twirling, twisting, bending. Jacob found it exciting. Now this was a dance.

Somewhat disorientated after a little over a minute and a half, Jacob almost did not notice that he had been guided away from prying eyes, backstage. There was no audience now. The dancing had ceased. Jacob's finishing pose had him bent over backwards, a hand on the back of his head, the other around his waist. Jacob's mind was puzzled, yet fragments of thoughts were trying to combine, but to create what exactly? He had his eyes meet with theirs. A noticeable exhale escaped his nose.

“Jacob my dear...”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why don't you read and find out? ;) It's safe by the way, if anyone is curious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a while, but here it is. I wasn't sure what direction to take this in, but finally I have something. I have no idea what the next chapter will be really about, or even if there will be a next chapter, though I would like to continue with something, but it's where to go from here. Maybe I'll throw in a few headcannon ideas. :)

The night had gone exactly as Roth had planned, but there was still matters to attend to, namely, the man in his arms. Jacob could react in a number of ways, good or bad. Would he kiss him? Would he run away? Would be stab him? All were possible. Jacob decided to do neither of them, his gaze just fixated with Roth's, seemingly expecting something to happen. Had Roth been granted permission to lead? Roth watched his eyes, searching for a clue, though difficult it was, as Jacob possessed such captivating eyes that tempted Roth to dive into his face right then and there.

 _Patience_ , Roth thought, knowing that this would be most ungentlemanly.

He almost forgot that they both still had their masks on, though he thought it rude if he were to remove Jacob's first. He detached his own, throwing it somewhere to the side, not caring if it got broken. However, as he attempted to remove Jacob's mask, a nervous hand on his wrist stopped him.

“Leave it,” he commanded, wanting it to remain. He knew what lay underneath.

Roth raised an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

Of course Roth would ask, Jacob knew this, but deep down he hoped he would not. What could he say? That he was blushing like a bride on her wedding day? Forget it. He had to make up an excuse.

“I like wearing it.” Brilliant.

Unexpectedly, Jacob was let go. He heard Roth laughing as he straightened himself up, the man now standing a metre away, back facing him. There was no way Roth bought that. The sentiment was proved as definite when Roth quickly strolled up to Jacob, swiping the mask clean from his face. Jacob released a gasp from his feared lips, his hand instinctively shielded his face slightly, eyebrows furrowed in disapproval. What he would not give to have his hood up.

The sight of Jacob was absorbed by Roth. The quivering hand doing a pitiful job of hiding the blood that desired attention. Roth obliged in giving it the audience it deserved. Only, a curtain that swallowed up half the stage could not be fully appreciated. Time to draw them open. Gently, Roth took a hold of Jacob's wrist, though choosing not to move it yet, seeing if Jacob would even allow it. No resistance. Easing the hand away from his face, Roth was presented with a sight that he could only describe as delectable. Roth swore that if Jacob was a food, he would be a dessert; that sweet, much deserved prize that one eats after a main course. Roth imagined that he was half way through his right now.

He looked at Jacob dead in the eyes, confident, but not at all threatening. A challenging, unsure gaze was upon him, as Jacob wondered what would happen next. Roth decided to start with the hand he had in his possession, bringing it to his lips to kiss its back. Roth was sure that Jacob would pick this up as a signal, a warning even, before advancing any further. The Assassin allowed it. Time to go in for the kill.

Roth abandoned the hand in search for Jacob's cheek, encouraging it forward in a gentle grasp. He brought their foreheads together, feeling Jacob's nervous breath on his face.

“You are a terrible liar,” Roth remarked, as he enveloped those lips with his own.

He knew this was all new Jacob, to be kissing another man, or kissing, so he made sure to take this into account as a possibility, so as not to scare him. Jacob was a ruthless killer, but that did not mean he could not be vulnerable. When Jacob attempted to kiss back, it was obvious this had not happened before. Roth instinctively brought up his spare hand to obtain the other side of Jacob's face, trying to get closer, though impossible it was. Roth's legs began to walk forwards, forcing Jacob back until they hit a wall. He heard Jacob whine like a kitten as he became less gentle without being aggressive. It was almost a crime to hear such pretty noises emitting from Jacob. Almost.

A pair of shaky hands took a hold of Roth's shoulders, nails digging at his suit as if to scratch it. Roth understood and respected Jacob in that events should not accelerate any further in this early stage, and stopped to allow Jacob the time to process what had just happened. Jacob was left breathing rather heavily whilst Roth was very composed. Roth waited for Jacob to calm down, watching as a shy smile appeared on his handsome face. Cute. The smile evolved into a grin, throwing Roth off. He was not sure if he should be on edge or not, questioning if Jacob was really as predictable as he originally thought.

He was surprised when Jacob pushed at him, laughing as he began to walk away. Was he leaving? Roth felt his heart sink slightly, watching Jacob's back, wishing for it to turn around, even if to just see his face for the last time. Though he hoped that the opportunity to see him again would arise, if Jacob was willing. He was grateful when Jacob did a half turn, his friendly eyes taunting him from across the room.

“I do appear to have left my beer somewhere. I suppose I'll have to buy another, won't I?” Such the tease.

Roth's trademark smirk almost perfectly concealed the back flips his insides were doing. Jacob noticed the little spark of surprise upon his spoken words. If Roth had kept at it, it would have been cute.

“Allow me to pay.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roth is a mischievous bastard and Jacob loves it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT CHANGE! IMPORTANT CHANGE! IMPORTANT CHANGE!
> 
> Towards the end of chapter 4, I have altered it slightly, as I didn't like what I'd written before, and basically is the setup for chapter 5 to happen. Do read the change, it is small, but makes sense. The change starts from 'The smile evolved', which is the 5th paragraph from the bottom.
> 
> This chapter though gave me so much trouble, because I didn't know what route to take. This was my original idea, but I did try other ideas but I couldn't make them work and this one was always in the back of my mind.
> 
> Things get a bit hot, but it's not explicit. Have fun. :)

Jacob found himself waking up in a bed, his right leg ungracefully sticking out of the duvet that warmed his body. He never recalled getting here, nor did he know exactly where here was, though he knew it was not his own. The walls that surrounded him were accompanied by intricate furniture, reminding him of Roth's theatre. He came to the conclusion that he was either still here, or that this was Roth's house. And bed.  
  
_Oh bloody hell!_  
  
His thoughts flung him out of bed to seek out Roth, his memory failing him due to alcohol consumption. His legs took him out of the room and down a flight of stairs. If this was Roth's house, he would likely be in the kitchen or lounge. As it were, Roth was found seated at a dining table reading a newspaper, not noticing that Jacob had sheepishly entered the room.  
  
“Roth?” Jacob did not how else to address the man, given the slight uneasiness he felt. He watched Roth's eyes come to life in response, partnered with that smile of his.  
  
“Ah Jacob, darling! Nice of you to join the rest of the world. Though it's no longer morning, but no matter, you obviously required rest after... last night,” he replied, setting the newspaper down with disinterest. Roth sounded like a cat that got the cream.

And Jacob was the mouse.

“And what exactly did happen?” he inquired.

Played like a fiddle.

“Surely, Jacob, you do not require the details to such... events?” He raised himself from the crevice of his chair, as if he was the devil himself. He was an actor after all, so who was to say he could not be just that? “You drank too much.” His index finger snaking its way along the top of the table, his feet manoeuvrings their way through nothing as he made his way over to the confused, younger man. Jacob remained still, possibly not wanting to show any reaction. “You ended up in my home.” An arms touch away was all that stood between them.

Jacob felt like he would fall apart, especially when Roth chose to semi-circle him to stand at his back. Jacob allowed it. The breath on his ear was both inviting and frightening.

“And you woke up in my bed.” The cat was purring now.

Jacob jumped away, creating some distance between them. He barely had the time to throw his fiery eyes at him when Roth began to genuinely laugh, rather than the manipulative howl that Jacob had expected. He said nothing, waiting for Roth to explain himself.

“All the world's a stage, my boy.”

The strings had ceased playing.

“Is this...?” he began, half confused, half annoyed. Roth's smile grew. “You devious sod!” A semi serious punch was aimed at Roth's arm, the impact causing little physical effect, though it did raise a snicker from the man. Jacob scoffed, embarrassed at this little game of Roth's that he had lost. He knew he should be use to it by now. He never could win.

“Oh Jacob, have you only just discovered that?” Roth teased, his eyes darkening. “Have you not already learned to dance with a devil?” A step forward, and a swift hand movement snapped up Jacob's chin. Their dangerous eyes meet. “Or... do you require more teachings?”

The fire in Jacob's eyes extinguished, put out by Roth's gaze as if they were the ocean, the tide gentle, but always with a sense of danger. Jacob boldly shifts his head to the side of Roth's, his mouth virtually on his ear. “Then teach me.” His voice was husky, and Roth accepts the invite by spinning his head around to violate those lips.

It was no way near like it was the night before, and neither expects it to be, nor do they desire it. Destruction is all they seeked, soldiers in this war. Roth is merciless, his hands on Jacob's face to keep him there like he was expected him to disappear into thin air.

Jacob is harsh, but not of equal standard, and he was fine with that; he was the student after all. His hands looped themselves around Roth's neck, making sure he did not somehow drift away. He feels Roth advancing, persuading Jacob to backward step in surrender. Jacob obliges all too well, his mind jumping back in time to the previous night, a mirrored occurrence to what was currently happening. This time there was no wall to greet him, but a desk, which makes Jacob think that this was no coincidence, and that Roth guided him to it. He does not complain though, enjoying the control Roth has on him as he pushed Jacob's back into the desk until he was half sprawled on it.

Roth lets go of Jacob's face in favour of his wrists that were still hooked around his neck, pinning them to the desk. His lips leave Jacob's, switching to give the neck some attention. He hears a shaky gasp when he makes contact, feeling the vibrations of Jacob's breathing, knowing his lips are parted when Roth hears him moan.

Jacob can feel Roth's smirk on his skin as the unsubtle noise escapes him. He blushes at himself, thankful that no eyes are on him to see, but knows that Roth does not need to see. He can feel light kisses travel down his neck, which triggers a childish laugh. He half expects it, but the teeth on him still comes as a surprise. There was a jumpiness in his breath, feeling like a caught prey that was about to have its throat shredded to bits.

Roth made for an excellent predator.

“Roth...”

He relishes at Jacob's submissive tone, feeling his animalism grow. He wants to tear at his flesh until there is blood, to leave nail scratches and bites on him that Roth would treasure. He wants to handle him roughly, ripping at his clothes, throwing him onto the bed. Roth was fully aware that these are just fantasies until Jacob says otherwise, that is, if he even does. He can feel his hands being pushed away by strong wrists, realizing Jacob's intentions. He had had enough.

“Alright... alright... I'm... stop,” Jacob breathed out, and Roth lets up, taking a step back to allow Jacob some space.

Roth watched with amusement as Jacob sits himself up and recovers, his face painted in red like brushstrokes on a canvas. Jacob was already a work of art, but unfinished, and required enhancements, all of which Roth would be happy to attend to. A smile gradually forms on Jacob's pretty face, and Roth falls in love all over again. He offers a hand to help Jacob shift himself from the desk, and is happy when it is accepted.

“How'd I do?” Jacob inquires, freeing his hand to correct his messy collar.

“Good, but there's room for improvement. However, if you so wish, you are eligible to retake, my dear Jacob.”

The smirk on Roth's face is contagious, as Jacob finds himself returning his own.

“I accept.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Restaurant time, and shenanigans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You ever have those moments when you don't feeling like writing for weeks and then you write 1700+ words in a day? This is the result. :p

The afternoon promised of a meal, courtesy of Roth with providing Jacob on a good time. Roth leads on, followed by an enthusiastic Jacob, who is currently wearing one of Roth's suits, since he slept in his own clothing. He still insisted on the gauntlet though, despite its somewhat contrast with the suit, but it would feel wrong without it. His very life may be jeopardized otherwise. His ears take in Roth's voice as he talks of the place they are to visit; Simpson's-in-the-Strand, swearing that their venison is a must.

 They arrive at the door, and Roth pushes it to one side to allow Jacob access first, gesturing him in to marvel at the insides of the building. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, posh curtains draped at the exposing windows, flower arrangements on nearby desks. Jacob never saw himself in a place such as this, but he finds himself liking it nonetheless. His thoughts are interrupted when he hears a voice.

 “Good afternoon gentlemen. Table for two?”

 A man is addressing Roth, notebook in hand.

 “Yes, a Mr. Roth. I'm a regular. My partner however is a first timer. We'll go with a daily fee for you for now.”

 Roth smiles at Jacob, and the unnamed man looks at him to in question.

 “That okay with you, sir?” he asks.

 Jacob nods. He guesses so, as there is little point in paying more if he finds himself not visiting here that often, which is probably likely. Being an Assassin kept him busy.

 “That will be sixpence please.”

 Jacob is about to gather up the money, when he sees Roth wave a hand in front of him.

 “I'll pay.”

 Roth notices the off guard look on Jacob's face, and it does not disappoint him, watching as Jacob's surprised eyes are replaced with half lidded ones. A smile also appears, with a slight twinge of pink that does not go unappreciated.

 Oblivious, the man accepts Roth's money, ushering the two men to a nearby table. Jacob finds himself surprised again when the man pulls out the chair for him. Adjusting to a lifestyle such as this would take some time getting use to, as Jacob always did things himself. He gets comfortable, feeling up the chair for its smoothness. Elm. It is padded too, so he knows being seated here for a good duration of time will not be unpleasant. A menu is handed to him, his eyes going over the words of food he wants to eat. This place appears to favour meat, which suits Jacob, but Roth recommends he tries the venison, a meat he is not familiar with, but heck, he is not one to knock it until tried.

 He decides on a venison pie, sided with vegetables and white sauce. For dessert, he settles for a bakewell pudding, his taste buds itching for some flaky pastry. Red wine was his choice of drink, though usually a beer and ale drinker, he felt it almost compulsory to go for something more sophisticated. Finished with his choices, he sets the menu down and eyes Roth up.

 “Haven't you picked yet?” Jacob teases, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. Roth looks on in brief surprise.

 “Yes, actually,” he says, setting his own menu down. “Though I must say, I was expecting you to ask for my opinion on what to choose, but it seems you don't need my help.” He smiles, entwining his own fingers together to rest his own chin on. Jacob grins.

 “I chose the venison, like you said, in a pie with veg and white sauce. I've never had bakewell pudding before, but it sounds good going by its description. And then red wine. You?”

 “Ah, so you did go with my recommendation. A good choice. I went with seafood, which you should also try. You could try some of mine... if you like.” Roth's eyes turn dreamy, his voice dipping lower slightly as he flirts with the Assassin.

 “So kind, Mr. Roth.”

 Shortly after, Roth attracts a waiter over to give him their orders, and the two amuse themselves with idle chitchat to pass the time as they wait.

 “So, I take it you come here often,” Jacob inquires. “A regular... in a place like this. Quite the posh gig, isn't it?” The decor is set upon by Jacob's averting eyes, taking in the detail of the room.

 “One shouldn't expect differently when one owns a theatre, dear boy. Admittedly, the theatre also keeps me away from this place more times than I'd like. I suspect a man such as yourself also has his priorities to attend to when he'd rather be visiting a pub somewhere, right?”

 Roth knows that Jacob is bound by the brotherhood, though for the greater good, leaves less time for the young man to enjoy in his own hobbies.

 “Well... yes, but it has its rewards. Namely, taking down people like Starrick. A man like that doesn't deserve to see the light of day.” Jacob's tone is firm and filled with maturity.

 “Indeed he doesn't. Isn't it funny how business shapes itself into leisure, my dear? Surprise is the spice of life!”

 Jacob chuckles, nodding slightly. He notices the waiter from earlier walking towards them, his hands occupied with two plates.

 “Food's here.”

 Both smile as their food is set in front of them. As good as the food in, Roth is unfazed, but Jacob's nose is attacked with the whiff of his steaming hot pie. He stills, eyes widening, nostrils opening in agreement to the wondrous food.

 “Blimey, this smells good!” he beams, his mouth almost watering with anticipation.

 “Tuck in.”

 Jacob picks up his cutlery and began to assault the pastry. He acquires a piece with his fork, before dunking it into the offering sauce. He eats. A rush of hot flavours hits his mouth that lightens Jacob's mood even further. The food is amazing. He does not notice Roth watching him at first, who had not touched his own food yet, taking the opportunity to see what Jacob thought of the food for the first time. Jacob's face is a picture, like a person who lived in Africa seeing snow. Jacob devours the piece pleasantly, pointing his fork at his plate.

 “This is bloody good!” He speaks as if Roth is unaware, though he knows this not true, seeing as it was Roth that recommended it. Jacob just cannot quite believe how good it tasted. He had eaten meat before, but they were usually your run-of-the-mill types; pork, bacon, ham.

 He cannot decide whether venison just tastes better, or if the restaurant had a special technique on how to cook it with success. Evie could cook, and would cook for Jacob to save her brother the horror of indulging in his own burnt food, but Evie is no chef like the people here.

 “I thought you might like it,” Roth goes. With his own fork, he picks up a prawn. “Here, try this.”

 Jacob is hesitate at first on taking a bite from the fork that waved in front of his eyes. People might think they are odd, but he pushes the thought aside and takes the prawn into his mouth. He chews until the flavour releases and they agree with him again.

 “It's good too,” he states, after making quick work of the prawn. “This is nothing like back home, especially...” he laughs, “especially when I try to cook.” While he would pretend to Evie that his food was fine, he would curse himself in private at his failure. It did not always come out bad, but there had been incidents in the kitchen, some very minor, one time nearly setting the house on fire.

 “Perhaps I could teach you. Cooking isn't difficult once you know how,” Roth commented, taking a bite of his seafood dish.

 Jacob emits a hum when he nods, and continues to feast on his meal.

 In between bites they would talk, sipping wine on occasion until their plates are empty. Jacob finds himself quite full, but room enough for that blakewell pudding he wants to try. A passing waiter collects up their plates, and moments later, another replaces the table with desserts. Jacob looks over to see what Roth had chosen.

 “What's that?” he asks, pointing at the dessert.

  “It's Plum Flummery, my dear. Would you like to try some?” Roth does not even wait for a reply and extends his arm to Jacob's face, who curiously accepts the soft dessert topped with cream.

 Jacob welcomes the flavour, rich in purple flesh, although recently it came to Jacob's knowledge that some plums are green. Aleck is quite the encyclopedia, when he is not yelling about plums that is, because Jacob was not fast enough in throwing a Voltaic Bomb.

 Jacob repeats himself as he has done all evening on his opinion on the food, and focuses on his own dessert. While he has a spoon, Jacob thinks it easier to just use his hands to eat, because pastry was easy to handle. He swoops up the treat and brings it to his lips. Taking a bite, he had not anticipated on how messy the dessert ended up being, his fingers now painted in jam and egg. It does not necessarily bother him, and ungentlemanly licks at his fingers as would a child.

 Roth is distracted as the scene that plays out in front of him draws his attention. He watches Jacob lap at his nails and making small noises with his lips. He half swears Jacob is doing it on purpose, so he should not be surprised when Roth reaches out to grasp at the wrist to bring it to his own lips. Roth lets the fingers linger there, watching Jacob's reaction, and possible objection to what he has planned.

 “Wait Roth, we're in a restaurant. Do you want us to get kicked out?”

 Roth's eyes darken.

 “So you have no objection to this if it were not for a public display?” he purrs.

 Jacob turns to a similar colour as the jam, his voice hitching slightly when he feels Roth take in a fingertip, tasting the jam for himself.

 “Jacob, is that you?” a voice goes.

 Jacob almost falls out of his chair.


End file.
